Leaving
by CookieTower
Summary: There are other meanings to LAX these days. It's not just the Los Angeles International Airport anymore. This new meaning recently made their relationship hit the rock bottom. Oneshot: Alfred x Matthew


Well, I just wanted to write this… It's a one-shot based on a song I heard on Youtube. It was so cute and awesome I just had to write something about it! :P Is this what they call a songfic? I'm really confused. :\

So I hope you guys like this one…

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the song nor do I own Hetalia.

**Warnings: **Nothing really... grammar and spelling mistakes, maybe? :D

* * *

Matthew Williams, the nation of Canada, is troubled right now.

It is one o'clock in the morning and he's on a queen sized bed in a hotel in Los Angeles, in the state of California, in his brother's (also lover) country. He is not alone though. He is obviously sharing a bed with his boyfriend, the United States of America also known as Alfred F. Jones.

There is no cuddling though.

Both men lay on their sides away from each other; each taking one far side of the bed. Alfred faced away from Matthew while the Canadian faced the American's back.

"Alfred…" Matthew sighed, reaching a hand out to touch Alfred's shoulder but the American harshly shrugged it away. "Alfred, please…"

Alfred did not answer but instead skidded further away from Matthew. The Canadian tried to move toward his lover but it only succeeded into making the American pull the blanket over himself and continued to give Matthew the cold shoulder.

"Alfred, you know I didn't mean it…" the Canadian whispered and pulled himself up. "You know very well that… well… you know…"

"That what?" Alfred snarled, not even turning to see Matthew flinch.

"T-that I can't… you know… h-hold my l-liquor… you k-know all about my tendency to suddenly be sl-"

"Bull shit." Alfred spat, glancing briefly at Matthew then returned to his former position.

"A-Alfred…" Matthew stuttered. "I-I swear, nothing happened…"

Again Alfred didn't answer. Seconds ticked away in the silence and Matthew could've sworn it was as cold as his winters here inside the hotel room.

(Or maybe it was because he wasn't under the blanket.)

Alfred breathed in, "You just say that 'cause something _did _happen."

The nation of Canada tried to retaliate but he found no words to express his side of the story. Nothing really happened. It's just that when he gets really drunk, he could be a tad bit of a flirt. It just so happened that a two girls found him good looking and dragged him off somewhere.

Alfred retrieved him before the girls attacked the defenseless Canadian.

Releasing a pathetic sigh, Matthew glanced to the digital clock placed on top of a bedside table near his side of the bed.

It was now two o'clock in the morning.

Though Alfred managed to pull him out of the possible threesome, a lot more happened a few hours ago. And that probably made the American unbelievably jealous with the people approaching the intoxicated Canadian and utterly outraged whenever Matthew happily entertained them.

In another sad attempt to reconcile, Matthew moved closer to Alfred and curled himself on the American's back. "Alfred, I'm really so- gah!"

In all his fury, Alfred pushed the poor Canadian off of the bed. Matthew groaned and asked helplessly what that was for. "Don't touch me." Alfred answered.

"Then what do you want me to do?" asked Matthew in his barely there voice, "Sleep on the floor?"

"Please."

Matthew froze. He felt like his world had crumbled over. Alfred didn't act like this before. Sure, whenever he'd get extremely plastered and starts acting like a Don Juan (to both sexes) Alfred would get angry like this but never had he taken it this far. It was usually Matthew that orders the American to sleep on the floor.

"F-fine!" cried the Canadian and got his pillow from the bed.

Matthew thought back to the 'other' things that happened a few hours ago. Looking back to the past times he got very drunk, he wasn't as 'different' as he was today. Honestly, the night started out so innocently. In fact, it was Alfred that suggested that they go around and crash at a few bars. Alfred could hold his drinks pretty well but little Matthew takes only a few strong shots to get tipsy, then loud, then… yeah.

Matthew blames Alfred but he couldn't say it right now… could he?

It was at the third bar that Matthew started acting different. Girls closed into him and flirted with him, guys offered him drinks that he gladly took… All while Alfred was also fooling around with strangers.

Matthew sighed again and sat upright, leaning on the bedside table for support. He reached up and pulled the digital clock to his face. It read three-thirty in the morning.

"Alfred, please… I don't want you to stay mad at me forever…" he whispered, mostly to the air because his boyfriend didn't answer. Again. "If it's about Francis then… well, you already know that there will never be anything between us."

Matthew got a 'hmph' as answer and he continued. "Alfred, I treat France like a father. I would never want him for a lover."

Francis was in the fifth bar that they entered tonight and by that time, Matthew was halfway to being completely intoxicated. The Frenchman found the Canadian flirting with some guys in the bar as Alfred excused himself to talk to some acquaintances in the bar. Alfred returned with the Canadian straddling the said 'father figure' and threw a bitch fit of epic proportions. In other words, that was the last straw.

But the only reason Matthew was straddling the man was that France had lifted him placed him on his lap against his will. Matthew was intoxicated yes, but he knew very well at that time that he can't be seen like this with Francis because he is dating Alfred and the loves the moron too much to cheat on him. Even the guys he was talking to knew that Matthew kind of panicked when his feet suddenly couldn't feel the floor.

Matthew checked the time again. 4:00 am.

"Al… please, say something." Matthew muttered, tears already pricking his eyes.

In all due respect, in their relationship, Matthew was definitely the one who gets the shorter end of the stick but he isn't complaining. It just felt so wrong to be the one actually pleading for forgiveness until one starts crying. Alfred always cried when he wronged the Canadian and they would reconcile in a snap. But this…

Maybe Alfred was just too much of a drama queen.

(And that Matthew is easily betrayed by tears, his or not)

"A-Alfred, I-I'm sorry… please, t-talk to me…" the Canadian choked out, the dotting tears slowly becoming streams of silver. Matthew turned to the large sliding window to his right. The skies are slowly turning a lighter shade of black and the purple eyed blond just wants to cry out. "A-Al…"

He doesn't know if Alfred knows that he's crying. He kneeled up and rested his limp elbows on the bed and pleaded again, "A-Alfred… p-p-please…"

Matthew racked his head for other things he might have done tonight that angered his lover. All he remembered was the flirting with various people and straddling Francis. What else did he do? Was Alfred also angry about the bill for the drinks? But the American said himself that he didn't mind having to pay for everything. Then what? What?

Matthew blanched. He made a rather misleading conversation on the phone with Gilbert while on their way to the hotel. Matthew woke up in bed hearing Alfred talking to someone on the phone, mad and cursing.

Gilbert and Matthew dated awhile back before Alfred came along and asked him out. Matthew told his current lover about their past and specifically told him that Gilbert is in a relationship with someone else already and that they make those weird conversations ever so often to piss off Gilbert's current lover.

So straddling Francis wasn't the last straw.

"I-is this about G-Gilbert?" Matthew asked cautiously. When Alfred flinched, he took it as a sign to explain. "T-that didn't m-mean anything, Al! Pl-please believe m-me…" Matthew went all out with the crying when he heard Alfred's answer.

"Matthew, I'm tired. Would you please shut up?" Alfred sighed, frustrated, anger still present in the tone of voice. The American pulled the blanket on a bit tighter and said no more.

Matthew felt absolutely horrible.

And it was now past five in the morning.

Matthew stared into nothing as fat tears rolled down his blushing cheeks. He opted to lie on his side on the cold floor of the room facing the big mirror to avoid any other exchange. He just sobbed there, holding the pillow to his chest as he watched the sky turn from grey to a light shade of pink.

He doesn't understand how this could anger the American so much. Matthew had many reasons to be angry at Alfred than this. He couldn't count the times Alfred had 'forgotten' that they were dating. It even went as far as to getting caught by Matthew. But he loved Alfred so he couldn't bring himself to say it's over. There were times that Alfred had forgotten the existence of his brother-lover all together.

There were plenty reasons to hate Alfred F. Jones than to love him.

Yet he still loves the ungrateful bastard.

Matthew reached for his mobile phone and started to connect to the internet. He sat upright again and looked at Alfred. His boyfriend did not stir and nothing came out of his mouth. All Matthew could hear was the pounding of blood through his ears, his breathing and the sounds of his phone.

"Alfred, I'm sorry…" said Matthew but it fell on deaf ears. Tears sprung again and Matthew started fiddling with his phone. His thumb paused, thinking whether or not to press…

"Alfred, plea-"

Matthew's eyes stared wide-eyed in shock. His hand shook violently and without any further hesitation, sent the message to whoever he had typed. He glared accusingly at the rising sun as he stood up and swiftly collected his belongings and fixed them into his bags.

Alfred was oblivious to all this, as he was busy… sleeping… and snoring. And he snored a little too loudly for the Canadian to even finish saying 'please'.

His phone vibrated and he read the newly arrived message. The nation of Canada tore a piece of paper from the notepad provided by the hotel and scribbled a note for his sleeping boyfriend. Matthew snatched his glasses from the bedside table and hauled all his luggage to the hotel's door. Looking to the window then to Alfred, his stoic face faltered and he cried silently. He walked toward the window and slid the window curtains to a close to shield Alfred from the risen sun.

Matthew walked to Alfred and leaned down, planted a chaste kiss on his lips and went for the door.

The Canadian cried the whole way: from the elevator, to hailing a cab, driving to his destination and arriving. A man checked him up and he went forward. His luggage was separated from his and checked then received. Next, he removed his shoes and set it on a conveyor belt and again went forward.

Matthew waited for a while. His tears had stopped and now he stared away blankly. When a screen flashed a familiar combination of letters and words, he stood and lined up like the rest. Once in his seat, he finally gave out and cried in finality.

* * *

Alfred woke up and found that Matthew was nowhere to be found. He had checked everywhere and still no Matthew. He slumped on the bed and rubbed his face. He got Texas from the side table and noticed a piece of paper under it. He opened it and read the contents.

His eyes immediately dilated and he jumped up.

"Matthew!" he cried, quickly pulling on his jacket and pants. He ran for the door and down the halls, he checked the time. It was thirty minutes until ten o'clock. He hailed a taxi and told the driver to rush to the airport.

By the time he got there, it was too late.

Alfred fell on his knees as he watched airplane per airplane take off to their destinations…

...

...

_Good morning Alfred,_

_I hope you had a good sleep. I'm just leaving you a note so you wouldn't have to run all over the place to find me. Alfred, I think it's time for us to separate. Let's face it, we're good together as nations but as lovers, I don't think so. So I'm sorry if you got to read this by 10am since it's the time of my departure and all. I found something funny. The airport, LAX? Get it, L-A-ex? See you in the meetings then, eh?_

_-Matthew_

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So for anyone who wants to hear the song, it's called **10 AM **by** Zachary Stockdale**. I find it really cute and his voice is awesome so… heh. :P

You could search it up on Youtube or add this (watch?v=1kelA-KStwA) to youtube . com

Listen to it! It's stuck in my head so yeah… :P

And~ I don't know what genre this should be… can someone tell me? Or give me an idea?

Please review the story! Oh and if you've like this one... uhm, could you please read my other story? :3 Please?

**Review!**


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